Right now, Karl was utterly helpless.

Elgin was truly despicable—infuriating, even. But on the surface, he was the Empire’s prince, while Karl was merely a son-in-law of the Earl’s household. There was nothing he could do.

Worse, if the prince rejected his apology, next year’s funds for the Sowani Territory would shrink again. If this kept up, by the time Freya inherited the earldom, the constant oppression might push her to rebellion.

A classic case of tyranny forcing the people’s hand.

Though Freya had every reason to rise up, Karl would never allow it. Simple: the moment she raised arms, she’d fail. A figurehead Earl with no troops, no authority—what could she possibly rebel with? Any hasty recruitment would be spotted instantly.

So Karl would not let it happen. For now, he had to smooth things over with the prince outwardly, ensuring Sowani’s funding remained intact.

Anyone who’d seen the world knew: to take someone down, you couldn’t strike openly. You worked behind the scenes, all while smiling warmly to their face. That was the art of it. Reveal your blade too soon, and failure followed.

Of course, Karl never meant to *actually* harm the prince—just teach the despicable man a lesson.

Seeing Karl’s frustration, Freya spoke with a trace of shame:

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

Karl smiled gently at her. “It’s alright. Even if the sky falls, I’ll hold it up. Just be more careful next time.”

Freya nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

His father-in-law watched them both and said earnestly, “Karl’s right. Freya, even if you resent the Imperial Family, keep it hidden. Showing it like this? Without discretion, you’ll never achieve anything meaningful.”

Freya nodded repeatedly, accepting her mistake.

But Karl felt uneasy. *Wait… is he teaching Freya to bide her time? Swallow the resentment, then strike big later?*

*This’ll twist her thinking!*

He quickly cut in: “I don’t need you to achieve greatness. I just want our family safe, peaceful—and out of the Imperial Family’s crosshairs.”

All Karl wished for was a quiet, untroubled life.

The words had barely left his mouth when—BOOM! A deafening explosion ripped through the air ahead, searing heat stinging everyone’s ears.

“What’s happening!?”

The carriage screeched to a halt. Karl bolted out, scanning the source. Thick smoke billowed down the street; crowds scattered in panic. The Imperial carriage ahead had overturned—likely spooked horses.

Without hesitation, Karl sprinted toward it. Masked figures clashed fiercely with the prince’s guards.

“An assassination attempt!?”

Karl froze. He’d only *metaphorically* said “take down the prince”! Who acted on it *this* fast?!

A royal guard locked in combat yelled at him: “Earl’s son-in-law! Save His Highness! Get him out!”

The words died as a blade slit his throat. Another guard lunged in to hold the assassin back.

Seizing the moment, Karl scrambled onto the overturned carriage and pried open the roof hatch. Inside, Alice’s face was etched with despair—until she saw him. Her eyes lit up. In that darkness, Karl was the flame warming her world.

“Give me your hand!”

Karl reached in.

But as Alice stretched toward him, Elgin shoved her aside. “Move! I go first!” He grabbed Karl’s wrist, scrambling up.

Karl rolled his eyes, shoved him back, and lied smoothly: “Wait—arrows incoming!”

Elgin froze.

Karl seized the chance, clasping Alice’s hand. Feeling his warmth, her fear melted into quiet reassurance.

He pulled Alice out first, then hauled Elgin up. Sweeping Alice into a princess carry, he leaped down. “Run! Follow me!” He grabbed her hand, sprinting toward Freya.

Unlike the dazed Alice, Prince Elgin had already bolted ahead—only for an arrow to pierce his knee mid-stride. He screamed, tumbled, and collapsed. “Ahhh!!! Who did this!?” he howled, clutching his leg.

Karl glanced back. A masked woman in tight attire strode forward, crossbow in hand, her dark eyes and striking figure unmistakable.

*No way… Calis?!*

*Is this lunatic really trying to assassinate the prince?!*

In that instant, a haunting vision flashed in Karl’s mind:

[*The Earl’s entire family marched to the guillotine.*]

He instantly recognized the death flag. If Calis succeeded, the Earl’s household would bear full blame. Execution awaited them all.

“Princess Alice, flee with Freya now! She’ll protect you!”

“What about you?!” Alice’s voice trembled—not for herself, but for him.

“Go! It’s too dangerous!”

As he spoke, Freya arrived, sword drawn. “Karl! Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Take Alice. Protect Mia and my parents-in-law.”

“And you?” Freya frowned.

“If we all run, they’ll accuse us of abandoning royal safety. You go—I’ll hold them off.”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Don’t argue! Guard our family. You know my strength—thugs can’t touch me. And royal guards are still fighting.” He pushed Alice toward Freya. “Keep Princess Alice safe. *Absolutely* unharmed.”

One injured prince was bad enough. A hurt princess? Catastrophe.

Freya seized Alice’s hand and pulled her away. But Alice kept glancing back, eyes brimming with worry.

*'Mr. Karl… staying behind just for me… I’ll never forget your love.'*

Karl tightened his grip on his sword, watching Calis advance step by step. He muttered under his breath:

“She’s no ordinary thug…”

*…She’s a force beyond measure.*